Da Bears

Jordan Messier is a big kid at heart, so it was fitting Saturday night that he brought down a rain of 2,537 stuffed animals that will be putting smiles on the faces of children in the Mid-Columbia this holiday season.

Messier's goal, combined with Adam Hughesman's game-winner in the shootout, helped the Tri-City Americans rally for a 4-3 victory over the Everett Silvertips before a generous crowd of 5,284 at Toyota Center.

"That's awesome," Messier said of the number of toys donated. "It goes to a good cause, and when you can do this with your name beside it, it's a special feeling." 

The Americans have 10 wins and one tie in the last 11 years of the Teddy Bear Toss. Everett has been on the losing end of this game three times (2003, 2005 and 2011).

With the win, the Americans (21-7-0-0, 42 points) remained atop the Western Conference, one point ahead of Kamloops.

"We didn't start well, but I thought we played well for 55 minutes," said Tri-City coach Jim Hiller, whose team has won six in a row on home ice. "We persevered. It would have been easy to get on the wrong side of this."  (Herald)

That pretty much sums it up.  A couple things I'll add:

• Sixteen-year-old goalie is sixteen, still has some learning to do.  But Comrie was absolutely fantastic in the shoot out, it was great to see.
• It's glaringly obvious the hole that missing Yuen leaves.
• First goal as an American for Derek Ryckman.  Quite the sick celly as well.  He has been working his ass off so it was great to see his excitement.
• Only one little shift (did I miss a second?) for Dallman and Nickles.  I know the Ams were playing from behind the whole game, but these kids deserve a chance, which would also allow big guns to rest a bit.
• Awesome to see the truckloads of toys that rained down.
• After last month's moustaches, it took a minute to recognize some of the boys out there with their clean-shaved baby faces.

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The New York Times is running a 3-part series on the life and career of Derek Boogaard.  Today is the first part, looking at his early life and his WHL days.  It is such an exquisitely written piece, you have got to read it.

The Western Hockey League has 22 teams flung across western Canada and the northwestern United States. The players, ages 16 to 20, have their expenses paid, receive a small stipend for spending money and can earn scholarships to Canadian colleges. 

Most harbor hopes of playing professionally. On a typical roster of two dozen, a few will advance to the National Hockey League. And in today’s N.H.L., about one of every five players once played in the Western Hockey League. 

It is one of the three top junior leagues in Canada, the others based in Ontario and Quebec. In many regards, the W.H.L. is the toughest. Not only are franchises stretched 1,500 miles apart in some instances, making travel part of the teenage tribulation, but they also have produced some of hockey’s most notorious enforcers — from Tony Twist and Stu Grimson to Colton Orr and Steve MacIntyre. Veteran executives recall games where the only way to stop the brawls was to shut off the arena lights. 

The teams are not affiliated with N.H.L. teams, so player development is less a goal than profit. Fighting, an accepted and popular part of the game, is seen as a way to attract fans. 

Efforts to ban fighting in the N.H.L. have long been stymied, in part by the popularity and tradition of it in the junior and minor leagues. Web sites are devoted to the spectacle, often providing blow-by-blow descriptions, declaring winners and ranking the teenage fighters. 

Boogaard stepped into this culture when he was 16. The unwritten rules were well established.

Both players must agree to the challenge. Gloves are off. Until a few years ago, helmets were removed as both a sign of toughness and consideration to the unprotected knuckles of the combatants. When the leagues made helmet removal illegal, players learned to delicately remove each other’s helmets before the fight began — a concoction of courtesy and showmanship. Players knowingly drifted to the center of the rink. Some, like professional wrestlers, paused to pose or fix their hair.  (NYT--it's a long read, but worth it)